think twice before you leave (this isn't something you can take back)
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: Sirius stops by his brother's bedroom on his way out of this house - this family - he hates. It changes nothing.


Written for the Apparition Assignment at Hogwarts: Write about a tragic moment when somebody has to leave a friend/ family member behind, using Word: death, Genre: tragedy and Action: crying (and not just because I cried writing this).

I like writing about Sirius and Regulus' relationship, but I think that what always gets me the most is how they simply don't understand each other. Or at least, how little Sirius understands his brother. That's what I tried to show here, hopefully it worked out okay…

 _Word count_ : 934

 **think twice before you leave (this isn't something you can take back)**

Sirius isn't sure what makes him enter his brother's bedroom. He wasn't going to—was going to just leave, to run and never return to this house of horrors that never felt like home _(only that's not exactly right, is it? It was home, once, and what hurts is that it no longer is, that it hasn't been in years)_ but something stops him.

The door creaks softly as it opens, and immediately Sirius feels out of place, unsure of what to say. Regulus is sitting cross-legged on his bed, a book on his knees and Sirius is taken aback by how much he suddenly _yearns_.

Regulus looks like the seven-year-old boy Sirius once promised the world to, the kid brother he used to laugh with, and it makes it hard to breath.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" He barely looks up at Sirius from his book, and his voice is so mild Sirius can't tell what he's thinking (and Merlin, he used to be able to decipher his brother's moods so easily, where has that gone?).

Somehow, the words hurt Sirius more than he had thought they would.

"I am," Sirius replies, throat tight with emotions he hadn't thought he would feel. The burning anger he had felt when confronted to his mother mere moments ago seems to have burned out, leaving only ashes and barely warm embers in its wake. "I can't stay here," he adds, and the words taste like regret in his mouth.

Regulus just stares at him blankly, and it makes Sirius sick, it makes his eyes burn. He wishes his brother would scream, would hit him—would do _something_ , anything to prove that he cares.

"You did say more than once that you didn't belong here," Regulus states, voice empty. His hands are so pale against the cover of his book they look like a corpse's, and there is something deeply unsettling about the way his brother doesn't seem to feel anything, but still Sirius is unable to look away.

Somehow, hearing his own words in Regulus' mouth make them feel different, make them sound harsher. It's the truth, though—that much Sirius can be sure of.

Unsure of what to say, Sirius stays silent. It is damning—something flashes in his brother's eyes, too quick and mercurial for him to decipher it, and Regulus' lips curl up in a sneer.

"I see," he says. "Well, in that case I do believe you know where the door is," he adds, dismissive.

(how did they get here, get to this? How did they get so broken that his brother wasn't even trying to get him to stay?)

(Sirius thinks back to the ten years old boy who clung to his arms whenever their parents weren't around and who didn't want Sirius to go to Hogwarts—to leave him behind—and it makes his heart aches terribly)

(where did that boy go? Is Sirius the one who made him vanish, or did that boy even ever exist?)

For some reason, Sirius finds himself unable to move, feet rooted in his spot. "You could come with me," he finds himself saying. He doesn't know where the words come from, but he can feel that they're right. They feel warm in his chest, and for an instant that seems so much longer, Sirius allows himself to _hope_ , to imagine what such a future could be like.

Surprise flashes over Regulus' face, and then he laughs. The sound is bitter, and it sends shivers down Sirius' back. He knows what his brother's answer will be before the other boy says it.

"And go where?" Regulus mocks, voice as sharp as a knife. "To your little Gryffindor _friends_? Think they'll accept me just on your say-so? I didn't think you were that blind," he bites, and his lips stretch into a cruel smirk as Sirius flinches.

"They would help," Sirius states nonetheless. It is a fact: James and the Potters will take him in, and he'll belong there. Surely Regulus could learn to fit in there too.

"I don't need _help_ ," Regulus snaps back. "I don't need _saving_."

 _But you do,_ Sirius bites back, but it's too late. Regulus sees the words on his face and _snarls_.

"Leave!"

Almost despite himself, Sirius takes a step back. He doesn't think he ever saw his brother this angry or this hurt, and he feels torn between helping and obeying.

(it seemed so easy to leave when the rage he felt at his mother, at this house, clouding his judgment, but now it just feels like a part of him is dying, like maybe it's already been dead for a long time and he only just realized it)

(brothers, huh, his mind supplies jokingly, and it sounds like the people they used to be before they grew up)

"Leave, please," Regulus repeats, tone unrelenting. His eyes are surprisingly unguarded though, and Sirius can see the disillusion and hurt swimming freely in those grey orbs so like his own.

And so, Sirius leaves. The soft dragging noise the door makes as he closes it behind him sounds like death, and Sirius is surprised to see his vision slowly blur as he gets down the stairs and exits the house.

The air outside makes the wet tracks on his face feel horribly cold, but his eyes keep burning, and Sirius keeps walking.

As it turns out, there is nothing tying him to the place he's leaving behind.

He just wishes it would feel as freeing as it should.


End file.
